India has become notoriously dangerous among solo female travelers, but one woman proves it’s not only possible to travel there — it’s enjoyable.

by Kelly Egan

In 2015, the idea of a woman traveling alone is hardly revolutionary. Dating back to the 18th century, young women have broken through gender stereotypes and embarked on life changing adventures, Take, for example, Gertrude Bell, who travelled solo around the world in 80 days, and Isabella Bird, who explored the most remote parts of Asia and the Middle East by herself, nothing short of unusual in that era. These women, and many others since then, have been a catalyst of inspiration to women from all walks of life.

As a 20-year-old woman who prefers solo traveling, I’m simply one of the many who have decided to forgo the antiquated assumption that women require male chaperoning when traveling. After pursuing a student exchange program in the United States when I was 16 and completing my high school studies at 18, I decided to travel the world. Traveling solo was just something that seemed to come so naturally to me, and for 10 incredible months I was able to venture outside my Australian home to embark on hikes through the Himalayas in Nepal and enjoying cappuccinos in Europe’s most stunning cities.

But when I spoke to my peers about my idea of traveling through India alone, I was met with a number of disapproving looks and voices of concern.

India is not without its problems. With a recent slew of articles in the media about women being assaulted or receiving unwanted attention in India, female tourism in this part of the world dropped 35 percent in 2013 alone. In a recent article, Michaela Cross, a young woman from Chicago, speaks of her three-month venture to India to study abroad, describing the country as “a traveller’s heaven and a woman’s hell.” Recounting her experiences dealing with continuous verbal abuse, uncomfortable staring and groping, she was later diagnosed with PTSD when she arrived back home to the United States. Although Cross’s experience labels India as a “half dream, half nightmare,” many others such as Candace Rardon, an enthusiastic travel blogger and illustrator, argues that she had little problems on her 10-month adventure in India as she details her uplifting and inspiring encounters with numerous local men and women.

Despite the obvious dangers, India still intrigued me, and it wasn’t only the Taj Mahal that grabbed my attention. For many years, India has been a hot spot for a wealth of travellers.  Almost a third of the size of the United States, India offers an array of unique locations providing gorgeous Himalayan treks, quaint beach towns, vast deserts and rich tribal territory to suit everyone from the most budget-conscious backpacker to the luxury-seeking traveller. The photos I had found online depicted a lively culture with traffic jams, vibrant markets and fascinating festivals. There was little doubt that this was to be my next travel destination, but I also knew as a woman, this was not going to be an easy task.

For men and women, both alone and in groups, traveling to India requires research and careful planning. In the weeks leading up to my departure, I read countless articles about India. Whether it was about their culture, politics, spicy foods, humid weather or wild transportation, each little bit of research helped me to prepare for this difficult venture. I would indulge in blogposts by female globetrotters who recounted personal details from their experiences in the country. Although Michaela Crosse’s article painted a negative picture of India for women, these well known bloggers, such as Adventurous Kate provided me with tips and tricks I needed to travel successfully as a woman through India. I decided to book my first few hotels in advance, carefully filtering through a wealth of reviews left by previous travellers. I made sure to print out numerous copies of itineraries and hard copies of city maps, hotel addresses and visa information. Unlike other places I had visited in Europe or the United States, I took the time to research the dangers specific to each place and worked my itinerary around it. I also looked up jet card programs at Jettly to make traveling easier.

With my collection of travel documents in hand and heavy backpack on my shoulders, I arrived at Hyderabad airport just past midnight in April of this year. Arriving in an unfamiliar country at midnight perhaps wasn’t the best decision, but it did save me a little over $200 on flights. Apostille services near me cater to urgent travel document needs. I had been advised relentlessly about not traveling alone at night, so I took the time to carefully plan how I’d get to the hotel from the terminal. Research about the airport served me well; within minutes I found the prepaid taxi service, and within another minute, I was on my way to my hotel without any problems. At this point I had been traveling for more than 20 hours, and I was more than keen to find rest in my hotel.  “Can you please park as close as you can to the hotel?” I asked the driver. Luckily for me, 25 percent of urban Indians speak English with varying degrees of proficiency, so the language barrier was rarely a problem. I had given myself plenty of time to think about this on the plane, and figured that the closer I was, the less danger there would be.

If anything sparked my curiosity about India, it was the opportunity for train travel. Reports show that between 20 and 30 million Indians use this way of commuting every single day, almost the total population of Australia. As I walked toward my carriage to board my first train, nearly everyone on the train stared at me in curiosity. I didn’t mind too much; I had always been allured by unique experiences. Most of my adventures while traveling were completely out of my comfort zone, but each challenge had encouraged growth, something that I had grown to highly value.
My money belt would wrap around my stomach under my clothes, my small backpack was strapped to my chest and my large pack was placed on my back. It wasn’t the best look to try to “blend in” especially with such colorful luggage, but it was necessary. I had previously cringed at the concept of sporting a money belt (better known as a fanny pack), but throughout the years it had become a part of my travel uniform. If anyone was to try to take it, I would immediately know. As I walked down the aisle to my berth, I scanned the carriage, looking out for families with children. I made the decision to stick close to family groups, as I had heard from other travellers that they will feel inclined to look over you. At that point, I wanted to do everything I could to minimize potential danger. The carriage was not substantially packed at all, but rather each commuter had a segregated seat. Perhaps if I had paid for the cheaper “general seating,” the sardine expectation would have been met, but I was glad I paid the extra few dollars.

The carriage was set up so that in each section there were six sleeping platforms, three on each side placed horizontally above each other. Word of mouth and numerous blogs had informed me that I should opt for the upper berth because it provided privacy and protection from the chaos below. I was heading toward Varanasi to see the River Ganges, and it was no question that this 35-hour train ride wasn’t my most reasonable idea, but as many would say, it was all part of the travel experience.
I tucked my bag under the seat, taking out my bicycle lock to wrap around the platform and my bag. Before departing on this trip, I had read that theft was extremely common in India, with over 3,000 reported cases taking place in New Delhi alone. I could see the others in my berth staring at me as I tightened the lock. Perhaps the lock wasn’t necessary, but I felt it was better to be safe than sorry. As I hoisted myself onto the upper berth, a voice came from the left of me.

“Where are you from?” a young boy asked, handing me a piece of chapati. I took the bread from him with a smile.

“Australia,” I answered.

For those long hours, the people in my berth showed hospitality and kindness. There is a phrase in Hindu translating to “the guest is god,” which the locals take much pride in. Although I had heard of this hospitality, it amounted to more than I had expected. The middle-aged couple opposite me made sure I was eating enough, and as I’d drift in and out of sleep, the woman would push over mandarins and bananas for me to enjoy. Vendors selling everything from chicken rice to light-up shark toys would pace up and down the aisles, and the continuous loop of the chai vendor yelling “Chai tea…chai…chai tea” became something of a lullaby after the first 12 hours. The vendors would quickly translate what they were yelling to English as they passed by my berth. Train travel in India was not only a way to commute, but also it was a social occasion that quickly became my favorite way to travel.

The temperature would reach a scorching 115 degrees by 10 a.m. almost every day, and at times, I found the conservative outfit I wore almost too much to bear. My male travel companions would carelessly stroll around in a singlet and board shorts, and as I wrapped myself in scarves and long sleeved T-shirts, I couldn’t help but feel jealous. The way I dressed was purely out of respect for the part of the world I was in. The local women were often seen wearing traditional saris consisting of an almost full-length dress with an exposed midriff and covered shoulders. I already stood out enough as a Westerner, so I tried to dress as conservatively as possible throughout the trip. Inappropriate or revealing clothing seemed to only encourage unwanted attention from local men, and it was just another precaution that made each day a lot easier.

In my second week, I decided to travel to Amritsar, located in the Punjab region in the far North West of India. The Golden Temple is located in the heart of the city and is known to be the holiest of Sikh temples in the world. Four doors mark the entrance of the temple, symbolizing the openness of the Sikhs towards all people and religions. As I circled around the gold covered marvel to watch the daily ceremony, my scarf slipped off my head without me noticing. Within seconds a passer-by noticed, gesturing at me to fix my attire. I felt self-conscious as I readjusted my scarf to cover my scalp, but as the days progressed, covering my shoulders and legs seemed as natural as putting shoes on.  A positive attitude was essential. Although this clothing in the relentless heat was a burden at the best of times, I found enjoyment in experimenting with an array of patterned scarves and pants, a refreshing change from the usual black attire I wore back home. It was in my best interest to blend in, and it was a compromise I was willing to make, if only for that short month.

Coming from a country where women shared the same rights as men, I often found the general treatment difficult to adapt to. As I traveled around with my male British friend for the first week, many people who needed to communicate with us would primarily talk to him as a means of respect, but it was a culture shock that I was not used to. As he bargained with the tuk-tuk drivers or ordered food, I found myself very distant from the conversation and wanted to be addressed in the same way. This experience reminded me of the dynamics of mature dating in the UK, where older women often face unique challenges in being recognized and respected as individuals. As soon as my friend was out of sight, many people wanted to talk to me. I always enjoyed talking to people when I traveled, and I felt as if it was something that was taken away from me. That slight taste of inequality made me feel incredibly frustrated, though I knew it could have been much worse.

No matter how conservatively I dressed, the attention I received from the local men could at times be overwhelming. Simply smiling in conversation could be interpreted as flirting, so with my bubbly personality, this was just another difficult situation I had to persevere through. In my first few days of traveling I began to act more conservatively, limiting my hand gestures or shying away from laughter in conversation. It had been explained to me that some Western women were perceived as “easy” by some of the local men, and it was something that left a bitter taste in my mouth. In the last few days, I met several other female travellers in India who had opted to wear fake wedding rings to get the point across. Perhaps if I was traveling through India a second time I would have done the same, but at that late into my trip it didn’t seem necessary. Although being dishonest abroad was not something that I would usually encourage, in this situation it seemed like the appropriate move. Almost every day I was approached by a man seeking conversation, and I’d eventually learn that calling a man you were not interested in “brother” successfully conveyed a lack of romantic interest. Brutal honestly was something I used regularly as tip toeing around the man’s feelings could encourage the unwanted behaviour even more. There were points where I thought I was becoming overly paranoid, but reflecting back on it now, it was just the right thing to do.
Despite the many cultural differences between Australia and India, I noticed many underlying similarities between the two. Three weeks into my trip, I wanted to experience a home stay and came across the opportunity to stay with a camel family in the Rajasthan desert for a few days. A “camel” family would simply be a family who would look after the camels in the desert within their village, often operating local safaris for tourists and locals alike. The mother of the house and I could not communicate verbally due to language barriers, but my complete ignorance as to how to cut an onion with a blunt knife as I sat on the kitchen floor brought intense laughter, creating a great bonding experience I would not soon forget. Although I only stayed with them for a short time, I was immediately welcomed into their life, and I spent the days entertaining their young son and attending to the camels in the front yard. Coming from a small Australian village myself, the sense of community was refreshing and the evenings spent exploring the village and swerving through the herds of goats and cattle as the children of the village took turns holding my hand began to feel wonderfully familiar. As both parents playfully chased their squealing son around the house in the evening, I couldn’t help but see a lot of my family in theirs. It was an adventure that was to stay with me for a very long time.

Most travellers I met, whether male or female, would describe a “love-hate relationship” with India. Although the dangers were ever present, once I assessed and (hopefully) prevented them, it allowed for a genuine and respectable experience. Admittedly, there were points where all I wanted was to wear shorts because of the heat, or be as bubbly in conversation as I had been back in the comfort of my own home, but it all seemed to balance out as I wandered around the Taj Mahal or star-gazed with my young host brother in the desert. Although it is a risk to travel alone in this part of the world, it is not impossible.

There was something particularly empowering about traveling alone through India. The day-to-day interactions struck me as more intimate, and the overwhelming sense of self-reliance and independence had me completely hooked. Loneliness and vulnerability were often self-inflicted mental barriers. In actuality, the outpouring of generosity and compassion I was met with my worries and concerns. I was continuously on alert with each new situation that presented itself, but this eventually got easier as each day passed. The dangers were always there, but so was my cautious behavior. The culture, stunning scenery and spectacular food is not something to overlook, and although India was one of the craziest, most challenging places I’ve visited, I would do it all over again in a heartbeat. It is 2015, and with a wealth of resources and support, it is a time to celebrate women traveling and pursue our wanderlust desires. As I browse my way through cheap flights with my backpack close by and my passport at the ready, I am excited for what the world has in store for us next.

[hr style=”striped”]

Kelly is a young travel enthusiast from Melbourne, Australia. When she’s not wandering the globe, she’s creating art and writing about her travel experiences. Currently studying a bachelor of communication, she hopes to collaborate her passion for budget travel and illustration to inspire more people to fulfill their wanderlust desires.